


Haunted Hearts

by LouPF



Category: Smallfoot (2018)
Genre: Character Death, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Uhm, also yeah this is an au of my au so, but it's not permanent he's a ghost chill guys it's fine there's a, but this time with a ghost companion, everyone's there just accept it and move on, migo is the stonekeeper, this far at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-09 03:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16442132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouPF/pseuds/LouPF
Summary: Meechee doesn't take Percy back down from the mountain. Because of this he dies - and comes back as a ghost? This wasn't part of the plan.





	1. Chapter 1

When Percy woke up, he was cradled in his yeti’s arms.

Well, except for the fact that he wasn’t – rather, he was _looking_ at himself being cradled in his yeti’s arms. Which, of course, was startling in and of itself. The fact that he was floating, shimmering blue and transparent was a fair bit odder.

“Ah – ” he said, patting himself down, surprised to find that his hands met no resistance at all, only the cool sensation of water. “No, no, that’s not – ”

“How could you?” his yeti whispered, shocking Percy out of his beginning panic. His yeti looked away from his body, glaring up at the leader yeti with teary eyes. “How _could you?_ ”

“I’m sorry, Migo,” the leader yeti said, a grave expression on his face as he leaned on his staff. He didn’t sound sorry at all. “But they can never know of our existence.”

Percy stared, panic forgotten as curiosity took its place. Was Migo his yeti’s name? What did he mean, _they_?

His yeti – who he first now realized was sitting on his knees – drew a deep, shuddery breath, wiping at his eyes with his free hand. “He didn’t deserve to _die_ ,” he whispered, the words trembling beneath the weight of his anger and sorrow. “ _No one_ deserves to die – ”

The leader’s eyes were heavy and hard when he replied. “We could not have returned him. His death would have been slow and painful, had he stayed.” He turned away and out across the room; Percy followed his gaze, surprised to see the lines of stone statues. “We did him a favor, Migo.”

It was touching, he had to admit, seeing his yeti – Migo, apparently – gently cradling his body to his chest. “This is my fault,” he whispered, drawing another shuddery breath. “I shouldn’t have – I never should’ve – ”

“This is why we protect our own,” the leader said, voice dark. “Remember that, Migo.”

Migo, who was now openly crying, shook his head as he bent over Percy’s body. “I – I will,” he whispered, the words muffled by his tears. “I _will_.”

And Percy, who still didn’t fully understand what was going on, sat down heavily on the ice cage he’d been held in.

“Well,” he said to himself. “Shit.”

For a few minutes they just sat there, Migo crying quietly and the leader staring at him with eyes that slowly softened. Then, when the tears finally stilled, Migo looked up at him with reddened eyes. “He deserves a proper burial,” he whispered. “He should have that – ”

The leader raised one eyebrow. Wordlessly he turned around, heading for one of the many archways of the room. Once there he twisted his staff, unveiling a hidden room. He threw a look over his shoulder, gesturing for Migo to follow him into the dark.

Migo staggered to his feet, Percy’s body still held gently in his hands. Curious, and with nothing better to do, Percy followed, floating unconsciously much like he’d walked as a human.

“Things like these happen far too often,” the leader muttered, raising his glowing staff to lighten up the room.

And along the walls were humans. Women, men, children – of all races and ages, all of them blue-lipped and captured in ice.

Migo gave a watery sob, twisting away as if to shield Percy’s body from the sight. He pressed his free hand against his eyes, gasping after air as his shoulders shook. With his other he still held Percy’s body protectively against his chest. “How – how many times have you _done this_?” he cried, yelling it into the darkness beyond the leader’s light.

The words echoed off the ice a few times before silence once more rang.

“It’s impossible to know,” the leader responded quietly. “The first stonekeepers only dropped their bodies beneath the clouds. It’s only in later times we’ve been respectful enough to return them to the ice.”

Percy was staring at the corpses, unable to even formulate a straight-forward thought. Yetis had been capturing humans for _ages_ , killing them and freezing them down in here – and they didn’t even know for how _long_ –

suddenly everything made sense, their joy at seeing him, why he was fetched up there –

but why, then, was Migo crying? Had he not known? Hadn’t he been aware of what they’d been _doing_? How could he _not_ , and then _still_ try and find Percy, how did that even _work_ –

slowly he floated over to the nearest corpse, a young woman of African descent. She was clad in climbing equipment – likely she’d been caught unaware while exploring. He traced his fingers across the ice above her face, wondering how old she was and when she’d been caught. If she’d been missed.

He turned back to Migo and the leader, his gaze falling on his own dead body. He grimaced. “ _Please_ don’t tell me I have to haunt this place,” he whined, floating back over to his body to give it a calculating glance. “…hope I don’t look like that now,” he muttered, prodding his own cheek.

“Give him here,” the leader said, reaching for Percy’s lifeless body.

The light from the leaders’ staff flickered across Migo’s face while he stared at the out-stretched hand. The hesitation and uncertainty in his blood-shot eyes might’ve been a trick of the light, but then again – maybe it wasn’t.

Percy watched, holding his breath, as Migo carefully handed him over. “What are you going to do with him?”

The leader tucked Percy’s body into the crook of his elbow, decidedly less gentle than Migo had been. “Put him with the others,” he said, before turning around and walking towards the darkness, the stones of his robe clanking into each other as he went. “Go, Migo. It’s over.”

Migo hesitated for a moment, gazing longingly after the fading light. Then he looked away, a terribly guilty expression on his face. He left without a glance back.

Percy bit his lip. He wanted to follow the leader to know what happened to his body, but this place was giving him the creeps. He was conflicted about Migo, too – familiarity is trust, but he’d let him be in that ice cage when it was obvious he wouldn’t last.

Something yanked on him and he stumbled, being pulled a few more steps before regaining his balance. “What in – ”

One time he’d gone climbing in the Alps, tied to the rest of his group with a rope. One of them had slipped and fallen from the ledge they’d been walking on – Percy had nearly fallen after because of the abrupt tug. This was strangely similar, a tightening pull around his waist.

The yank happened again. It was strange – he hadn’t been able to sense anything else since he’d woken up, neither air nor the cool ice beneath his fingertips. That tugging, however, was as clear as day.

“Yes, yes!” he cried, stumbling and rushing to catch up with whatever was tugging him. “I’m coming, for Christ’s sake!”

Before he knew it, he was back at Migo’s side, trekking up a flight of stairs and then some.

“Well,” Percy said, crossing his arms and giving Migo an uncertain look. “Isn’t this just bloody perfect.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Migo, what are you – what are you  _doing_?”

The first day had been both hard and weird. Being confined to float around the head of an oddly quiet yeti wasn’t exactly how he’d been planning to spend his afterlife. Not that he’d had any plans to begin with, but still.

He didn’t know what had happened or why Migo had acted like he did. Was it he alone that was oblivious to the yetis murdering humans, or was it restricted knowledge? Based on the discussion Migo had with his father he supposed that it was the latter – the father had been disappointed and surprised at the news, a flash of horror and then resignation across his features.

The night had been weird, too – tiresome, in its own way. Migo fell asleep fast, curled up on his side and with his knees tucked against his chest. Since Percy didn’t  _need_ sleep he’d been stuck hovering in the air for some eight hours with absolutely nothing to do. It had been torture.

He was, quite understandably, pissed.

Seeing Migo strapping a rock to his head before sitting down in a slingshot-reminiscent contraption didn’t exactly make the shitty day any better, either.

“Okay, no,  _seriously_ ,” Percy said, crossing his arms with a frown. “What on  _Earth_ are you doing –”

“Shoot!” Migo exclaimed, and a second later he was rocketing into the skies. Percy only had half-a-second to realize what was going to happen before he, too, was flung into the air. He screamed, mostly on instinct, as the painful yank tugged him after Migo.

With a loud  _gong_ Migo slammed against a large, metal plate, sliding off into a heap right afterwards. Percy, however, passed right through it with a screech.

He flew on for a moment or two, and then the rope around his waist tightened, pulling him back. He heaved after air.

“Are you  _mad_?” he shrieked, spinning on his heel and marching right back through the metal plate to give Migo a shocked look. He seemed dizzy, shaking his head with a grimace. “What do you  _think you’re doing_ , you bloody fool – ”

The sun peeked out between two mountain tops in the distance. “You did it, son!” Migo’s father yelled, broken pride in his voice.

“Ha, yeah!” Migo called back, giving him two thumbs-up. The excited expression fell soon, though, and he dropped his hands into his lap with a heavy sigh. For a second he appeared weighed down, heavy in a way, as those the whole world rested on his shoulders for only a brief moment. “I  _wish_ I’d done it…” he whispered, pressing one hand against his chest before staggering to his feet.

The harsh words died on Percy’s tongue. He blinked, then frowned, shaking his head. “How did I even get into this mess?” he muttered, rubbing his eyebrows. Or, well –  _attempting_ to rub his eyebrows. His hand passed right through his face.

He stopped, eyeing his now far-too-close elbow with disdain.

Absolutely  _bloody_  fantastic.

*

He resigned himself to be mad the rest of the day. Migo didn’t talk much – which was honestly surprising and vaguely concerning, for he certainly made a lot of noises when Percy was alive – and if he didn’t talk, then no one talked to  _him_. Obviously that would become boring after a while.

Percy listened in on a few of the conversations around them when Migo went to the marketplace, but there’s not a lot to learn and it wasn’t very interesting. The fourth time he heard a yeti mention the weather he stopped listening at all.

It was hard ignoring someone when you’re practically glued to their back, but Percy managed relatively well –

until they stumbled upon a kid.

Migo’d been chatting with a random yeti chipping away at a rock with… another rock? When the kid walked over to him, tugging gently at the fur on his leg with a curious expression. “Oh, hi!” Migo said, turning to them with a smile. “What’s your name today, love?”

The kid enthusiastically gestured with their hands.

“Good morning, then, Soozie,” Migo said, offering them a beaming smile. “How’s your day been this far?”

They gestured again, slower this time, an uncertain expression on their face.

Migo’s beam fell. “N – no, Soozie,” he stuttered, “it – the smallfoot doesn’t exist, honey, it really was just a yak.” He laughed nervously, scratching his neck as his gaze flickered.

Percy squinted at him. He glanced down at his feet, then at Migo’s, and back over to Migo’s anxious smile.

He took a deep breath.

“A  _yak_?” he yelled, throwing his hands into the air. “Are you  _serious_?”

More gesturing from Soozie. Migo’s expression fell even more, a sorrowful tilt to his eyebrows. “I – yeah, it’s – the yak’s – the yak’s fine.” He swallowed heavily, gazing into the distance before focusing back on them again.

“ _Do I look like a fine yak to you_?” Percy cried, waving his hands frantically in front of Migo’s face. “I am  _literally_ dead!” He turned to the kid, pressing his bare palms together desperately. “Do  _not_ listen to him, he has  _no idea_ what he’s talking about!”

Soozie nodded slowly, but they seemed somewhat uncertain. “Atta kid,” Migo said, patting their head with a smile.

Percy watched them walk away with a flabbergasted expression. “You cannot possibly be serious,” he said, directing his shock and gaping mouth at Migo. “Do all of you think that I’m a yak?  _Really_?”

He got no response, of course. Which, really, only made him madder.

And so he stomped on through the village, a pouting transparent shadow lingering behind Migo’s head, shooting off salty comments at everyone and everything.

Then Migo stopped out of nowhere to talk to someone, and Percy, accustomed to him walking at a quick pace, passed right through him. Migo’s whole body tensed up as he yelped, and then he shuddered, shaking his head roughly. “Holy wowness, what was that?” he asked, looking around with wide eyes.

Percy stared.

Then a slow smirk came across his lips.

Perhaps communicating across the boarder between living and dead wasn’t  _that_ impossible, after all. He cracked his knuckles (tried to, and ignored the fact that he just pushed his hands awkwardly through each other), his new mission made clear.  _Communicate_.


	3. Chapter 3

Percy sat cross-legged at the end of Migo’s… bed? Stone? Whatever; where he slept. On the shelf beside the bed stood a stone slab with an engraved picture on it, and Percy was currently busy staring fiercely at it.

Slowly, very slowly, he reached out to touch it.

And his hand went straight through.

“This is _torture_!” he cried, making a grab at his hair but awkwardly shoving his hands through his head instead. “There must be _some_ way, all these – these ghost sightings can’t have been _nothing_ – ”

Letting out a long-drawn sigh he slumped over, letting himself fall back against the stone –

and continuing to fall back, half-way through the floor and shrouded in darkness before he stopped.

He shut his eyes. “I am so incredibly done with this,” he whispered. “Done. So done. Never _been_ more done with anything. _Ever_.”

He rose from the floor again, floating over to very gently sit himself down on Migo’s bed. After double- and triple checking to make sure that he was, indeed, _on_ the bed and not _in_ the bed, he turned back to the stone picture.

“Okay,” he said, trying to rub his hands together until he remembered that it would be fruitless. “Okay, it’s, uhm… it’s fine, Percy, maybe you just need… practice. Yes, practice.” He blew at his fingers, wiggled them a bit, and then went for the picture again. “You’re real,” he whispered to himself, “you exist, you’re real, you can and _will_ touch this stone, no matter what else you do.” In his mind he could see it – his own hand touching the stone, picking it up, brushing his fingers across it as though he’d never been dead in the first place.

He closed his eyes, leaned forward –

and met resistance.

His hand still passed through the stone, but this time he’d actually sensed it. It’d been like pushing against sun-warmed butter – ultimately no problem at all, but still _resistance_.

Percy stared at his hand. “Blimey,” he muttered, “I did it – I did it! It’s entirely possible!” he exclaimed, jumping up from the bed in excitement. “Migo, are you _seeing_ this, I’m – ”

He cut himself off.

Slowly he turned to look at Migo, curled up on the side of his stone bed, fur glowing pale silver in the diffused moonlight.

“Of course you’re not,” Percy whispered, more to himself than anything, as he went to comb his fingers through his hair. They passed right through, of course, but all the anger had been drained out of him at the sight of Migo sleeping so peacefully. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

He turned back to the picture. “Right. Let’s do this, then.”

As a ghost stuck in a yeti village it wasn’t easy to tell how much time passed from one moment to the next, but Percy was extremely certain that it took him at least two hours to be able to move the stone. Even then, all he could do was gentle prodding. If he pushed too hard he’d go through, and if he tried to pick it up his fingers would just grasp into nothing. But pushing it two centimeters to the left was still more than he could’ve done last night.

It was most definitely improvements.

Now he sat staring at his own hands, contemplating the color changes he’d seen during his experimenting. It was odd. As he’d mentally prepared himself for pushing that stone he’d become… less transparent. Appearing more solid, in a way. Of course, it was still _very_ obvious that he was a ghost, and he was most definitely still transparent, just… _less_.

“Hm,” he said, flexing the fingers of his right hand. “I wonder…”

Did it work with voice and touch, too?

He glanced over at Migo, who was just beginning to awaken from his deep sleep.

Time to find out.

*

“Oh, you’re doing this again, huh?” Percy asked, gesturing vaguely between Migo and the gong. He crossed his arms to give him a pointed look. “Doesn’t it _hurt_? Why are you even doing this, it makes no sense whatsoever.”

Migo nodded, staring determinedly at the gong in the distance. “Launch!” he cried.

“Here we go again,” Percy muttered, a second before the rope around his waist flung him into the air.

As they flew he prepared himself – in his mind hearing his voice the way it had sounded when people actually heard and listened to him, reassuring himself that it was real, that _he_ was real, and that if he spoke, then Migo would hear and understand –

Migo slammed into the gong, Percy pulled on the brakes, and the stop was so abrupt that both of them had to take a moments pause. Percy regained his senses first, floated down to Migo, and said, very pointedly, “There’s no point in doing that.”

Migo, who still looked relatively confused about his surroundings, squeezed his eyes shut with a sigh. He wiped his hands across his face, then whispered, “We’ve been over this, Migo. You do what you have to do.”

Percy blinked, taken aback by that response. He glanced up at the two mountaintops where the sun was rising, setting the yeti village nestled against the mountainside ablaze. And he understood.

“…it will rise on its own, you know,” he said softly.

He wasn’t sure if Migo heard him or not. There was a flash of pain in his eyes, but he shook his head and it was gone –

“Great job, son!” Migo’s dad called. Migo waved back, but Percy stood staring at him with a deep frown.

He was missing something. But what?

*

It was apparently routine for Migo to go down into the village after slamming himself against a gong, for he did it again that day. Why he was down there Percy didn’t know – he rarely bought anything and mostly only spoke to the other yetis, but he supposed it was fair enough. He’d had weird hobbies too, when he was alive. Like breathing.

Whatever the reason was, it made Percy’s job that much harder. He’d tried to talk to Migo once or twice more, but all the yetis around him had reacted to that, too, and so he’d given up on that particular quest. He wasn’t _opposed_ to talking to the other yetis, he just… wanted to talk to Migo _first_.

With talking out of the question he’d considered making himself visible, but it didn’t take him long to realize that that wasn’t exactly genius, either. He’d resorted to, in a last-ditch attempt, to get the sense of touch across the barrier separating them.

Needless to say, that hadn’t been successful either. He’d either make his hand visible by mistake, or Migo would brush away his touch as though it was the wind. Now, it _was_ a bit windy, but still. He deserved some respect for his efforts.

By noon he’d ran out of things to try. Either it would be social suicide – well, as much of a suicide as he could, anyway – or Migo didn’t respond, at all. He’d resigned himself to just floating through him every now and then – his long-drawn shudders and worried looks were worth it, to be honest.

Still. Percy wished he’d get his ass back home, so he could keep experimenting with him.

*

“Migo,” Percy whispered, focusing hard on getting his voice across the barrier. “Miiiigooooo…. Migo?”

Migo was growing very uncertain, Percy could tell. He’d been shifting like crazy since he began whispering his name. He was trying to write something, but every now and then his hand would tremble and he’d slip up and have to start anew.

Percy was quiet for a long time, only watching him work from over his shoulder.

Then, when he figured Migo had let his guard down again, he called, “Migo!”

Migo jumped nearly six feet into the air and broke the stone slab in two.

Percy howled with laughter.

Migo rubbed his horns tiredly. “I’m going mad,” he whispered to himself, slowly sitting back down in his chair. “There’s no way…” He put his head in his hands with a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping over as he curled in on himself.

A pang of guilt. The laughter died on his lips, and Percy’s smile twisted into a sad grimace. He floated over to Migo, sitting down carefully on the table before him. He reached over and patted his arm. “Sorry, big guy,” he muttered, focusing more on getting his touch across and not his voice. “But I think I deserve to give you some scares after all you’ve put me through.”

Migo stared at his arm in horror.

Percy patted it again.

“Migo?” came a familiar voice. “Where are you?”

Migo rushed to stand up and push the broken stone behind his back, subsequently flinging his arm through Percy as he stood. “Here, da!”

“Oh, not even a sorry?” Percy asked grumpily as he flew away from the table again. “Fine, whatever.”

His dad poked his head into the room, lighting up with a smile when he laid eyes on Migo. “There you are, son. Say, are you busy today?”

“Ha, nope, not at all,” Migo said, grinning nervously. In his hand he held the broken slab, and now he tightened his hold around it, stuffing it behind his back.

“Ah, great,” his dad said, entering the room fully. Percy floated up into the roof to get a better view. “Could you do me a teeny tiny favor?”

“Sure, da, what is it?”

His dad poked his index fingers together. “You know the cave? Up in the mountainside?”

Migo tilted his head. “The one with the geodes and the gems? What about it?” His dad gestured vaguely, nodding his head this way and that. “Oh! Oh, you want – yeah! Sure, I can go fetch some, no problem.”

His dad slouched over, a relieved smile on his face. “Thanks, son. You know I can’t climb as well anymore.”

“No problem, da,” Migo said, patting his shoulder as he walked past. “In fact, I’ll go right now!”

Percy had no choice but to follow. “What, are we going on a trip? _Now_?” he called after him. “Are you _serious_?”

Five minutes later and Percy was being tugged along up the snowy mountainside.

Bloody perfect.


	4. Chapter 4

Well – Percy thought, as he was dragged up through the snow – at least he couldn’t feel the cold. “This is still utterly ridiculous,” he said to Migo, struggling to keep up with his hurried climbing. It wasn’t like he’d lose him if he wasn’t fast enough, but the painful yanking wasn’t exactly the best feeling in the world. “Where are we even going, are we going to fetch stones for your father?”

There was no response, of course. He hadn’t expected any; he had to focus on moving and not materializing. It was soothing to grumble darkly, though, and it wasn’t like it bothered anyone.

“Alright,” Migo muttered, heaving himself up onto a rock. “Almost there - just a bit more.”

“Fine, sure, whatever,” Percy mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. What did it matter? It wasn’t like it was physically exhausting – they could climb for hours and it wouldn’t be straining in the least.

They’d progressed up to a moderately sized plateau, the ground surprisingly flat compared to the rest of the mountain. A few feet to the left he could barely see a crack in the stone, peeking out around the corner. Likely it was the cave Migo and his dad had been talking about. He moved towards it, expecting Migo to go in that direction, too -

only to be tugged back when he got too far. He yelped, stumbling back from the cave and turning to give Migo a questioning look.

Migo was standing at the edge of the plateau, staring down and out at the village below them. The wind had picked up since this morning, ruffling the longer fur of his chest and head. “Uh… Migo?” Percy asked, floating over to him. Against his better judgement – despite everything – both worry and confusion coursed through him. There was a haunted expression on Migo’s face, something dark and young and raw over his eyes. He sighed heavily. Almost sorrowful, in a way - the tilt to his eyebrows spoke of sadness, after all.

“I’m sorry,” Migo whispered, moving his hands to rub at his eyes. “I’m so sorry, I never should’ve - ” He drew another deep, shuddery breath. The short fur around his eyes glistened of tears. “It’s all my fault…”

“What?” Percy said, floating around him to face him directly, some part of him hoping to block out the village from his sight. “What’s your fault?”

For half a second Migo looked straight at him - actually at him, not at the air where he found himself. But then he turned away, screwing his eyes shut as a painful expression flickered across his face. “It’s over, Migo,” he whispered. “He’s gone. It’s all gone. Your _one_ chance, and you… blew it…” He shook his head and turned to the cave, making his way through the thick snow with ease.

“Migo - Migo, wait!” Percy cried, rushing after him. “What’s your fault?” He not only wished, not only thought, but _forced_ and willed the words to echo through the air, truer than any of the words he’d said since that fateful day.

Migo tensed, shoulders trembling. He stood still for a brief moment, then shook his head and moved on.

Percy sighed, pressing his hand against his cheek. As well as he could, anyway. There was no use; Migo would only brush him off until he could easily see him, and this far he could only make his hands somewhat visible.

He’d just have to practice, then.

What from the distance had seemed like only a crack turned out to be a far wider cave opening, large enough to let at least two yetis go through it at the same time. It was even larger on the inside - the walls sparkled and glimmered in the light, colors bouncing off each other and painting the stone purple and pale blue.

Migo didn’t seem to care, only scanning the walls with his gaze before walking over to one of them. He poked a bit at one of the sparkling gems, shining golden-blue in the light. Tilting his head, he scratched a bit at it, then pinched it between two fingers –

and pulled.

A moment later he held the small, jagged gem in his hand.

Percy gaped.

“Perfect,” Migo muttered, weighing it a bit in his hand before closing his fingers around it. Then he turned back to the entrance, ready to leave. He blinked. “Oh,” he said. He scratched his head. “Okay, then.” Percy, following his gaze, was surprised to see the entrance completely blocked by heavy snowing. The howl of distant wind accompanied it.

“...right,” Percy muttered. “Of bloody course.” He kicked a rock, only a little bit frustrated when his boot passed through it. “Well, at least you got into the cave before it started.” He followed Migo with his gaze as he moved over to one of the walls, sitting down there and pulling his knees up to his chest. “Wouldn’t want to see you freeze to death.”

Migo carefully placed the gem beside his foot. “This really isn’t my day,” he whispered, rubbing his horns tiredly. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, sighing heavily.

He didn’t open his eyes again.

“Uhm, Migo?” Percy asked, floating over uncertainly. “Are you - are you sleeping?” He prodded his chest, not surprised at all when he just went straight through. Nonetheless, he _did_ breathe, so at least he wasn’t dead. Maybe he’d gone into hibernation? It wasn’t like Percy would know.

He floated over to the other cave wall with a sigh, sitting down against it as well as he could.

Another few hours with absolutely nothing to do. Great.

*

Percy soon found that being stuck in a cave was worse than being stuck in Migo’s room. There was less to do, and far less to work with. He’d managed to prod a few stones, and had explored a bit further into the cave, but he couldn’t get far because of the rope tying him to Migo.

It was just his luck that another yeti showed up, then.

“It has finally gone that far, then?” they asked him, a sorrowful tint to their voice.

Percy hadn’t heard them approaching and spun around, coming face-to-face with a shimmering blue yeti. Around their neck was a thin rope, and from it hung five stone slabs, nestled against the thick fur on their chest. In their hand they held the same staff that the yeti leader held – and upon closer inspection it would be reasonable to say the stones were familiar, too.

“I - I, uh - sorry for intruding?” Percy squeaked, backing closer to Migo nervously. He had no good memories with yeti leaders, but at least the one alive had no idea he was there. This one could talk directly to him – possibly harm him – and he had nowhere to go.

They shook their head, but kept their distance. “This is the Cave of Wisdom,” they said, gesturing towards the darkness from which they had emerged. “Anyone is welcome to seek refugee here.” They dipped their head to give him a heavy look. “Even you.”

Percy backed further away, cautiously putting a hand on Migo’s shoulder. “I - pardon, but who are you?”

They smiled humorlessly. “The first Stonekeeper of them all,” they replied. Percy, had he been alive, would have paled. “I am mourned by my people every single day that goes by. There is sadness in their hearts not only for me, but for the lives they lost when we ran away.” They glanced at Migo, raising an eyebrow at his lifeless form. Percy moved closer to him, fingers burying into his fur almost thoughtlessly. “You’re linked to him, are you not?”

Percy nodded uncertainly.

“Hm,” they said. “I’m surprised a yeti would mourn one of your kind.”

“ - mourn?” Percy repeated, looking over at Migo with wide eyes. “He… mourns me?”

The yeti nodded slowly. “It is the reason you are here. He mourns your death and wishes you were still alive.” They looked at Migo when they continued on. “The moment he no longer regrets your presence in his life, you will disappear.”

Percy tightened his grasp on his fur. The yeti glanced at his hand, raising a judging eyebrow, but said nothing. “I’m -” Percy whispered. “I’m not… I’m not ready for that.” Despite it all - his anger, frustration and worry he wasn’t ready to move on. To disappear entirely, away from all he knew and loved.

“That,” they said, inclining their head, “is out of your control.” They watched Percy gape at them, then turned half-way away. “I advise you make the best out of your remaining time,” they said, only offering him a glance before turning back towards the darkness. “He’s a yeti. He won’t mourn you for long.”

Percy thought of the tears that had shone in Migo’s eyes so many times the last few days - of the pain in his voice, the guilt on his face, the gentleness of his hands when he’d cradled Percy’s lifeless body.

“Do you want to bet?” he asked, but the first Stonekeeper was gone.

*

The storm had died some time ago, but he’d supposed Migo needed his sleep, and so Percy hadn’t bothered trying to rouse him. Now he was slowly waking, stretching with a great yawn.

Percy, legs crossed and back against the other cave wall, kept still. If he moved his concentration would shatter and the visibility he’d slowly built up for himself would disappear.

Migo twisted, stretched again, turned around -

and then his gaze fell on Percy.

He froze. “ - smallfoot?” he whispered, his voice trembling, eyes wide.

Percy blinked, shooting a look to his own feet. “Well,” he said, hoping desperately that his voice would carry over, “it’s better than a yak, at least.”

Migo gaped, still frozen in the same position, arms held above his head. “But - you’re - I - ”

“Dead? Yeah,” Percy said, “that’s a thing that happened. I’m a ghost. Surprise!”

Migo stared at him for a long moment. “But - but how?” he asked, scrambling to his knees. “I - when you die you’re dead - ”

“Yes, well,” Percy said, tilting his head this way and that. “I’m certainly not alive?” Then he jabbed his head towards the cave entrance. “The storm’s over,” he informed him. “Can we go back down again? It’s kind of boring up here.” Migo was still only staring at him, wide-eyed and shocked. Assuming that he needed a further explanation, Percy gestured between them, raising his eyebrows. “I’m… I’m linked to you, I can’t leave your presence.”

Migo’s eyes went even wider, then he scrambled to his feet. “Wh - yes! Yes, of course - ”

Percy nodded gratefully, unfolding his legs and floating up into the air. Migo followed his movements anxiously with his gaze. “It’s tiring to be visible,” Percy warned him, “not to mention audible, too. So uh, I’m still here. Even if you can’t see me.”

Migo nodded slowly, lips parted and eyes wide. He walked towards the cave entrance, but was too busy staring at Percy to watch his step, and proceeded to stumble in his own feet.

Percy winced. Maybe he’d gone too fast? He knew he would be shocked at seeing his deceased acquaintance suddenly appearing as a ghost while he slept. Should he have materialized more slowly? One thing at a time?

Oh, no matter what he _should’ve_ done. What had happened had happened, and now he had to live with the consequences.

He let himself fade while he floated out of the cave. It truly was tiring to remain visible, and it seemed like a logical transition.

Once out, Migo looked around, confused and terrified, gaze flickering –

“I’m here,” Percy said, floating over to his shoulder and touching his cheek gently. Both the touch and the words were willed across the barrier between them.

Migo startled, frantically looked around, then closed his eyes and nodded. “Alright,” he said, visibly trying to calm himself down. “Okay. Fine.”

He’d taken a few steps down towards the village when Percy recalled the gem they’d come up to fetch in the first place. “Migo,” he said, tapping his shoulder, “the gem?”

“Oh!” Migo spun around, climbing back up through the snow. “Of – of course - thanks, smallfoot.”

“...my name is Percy,” Percy told him, amused at the nickname rather than irritated. Anything was better than being called a yak.


	5. Chapter 5

“Here you go, da,” Migo said, handing his father the small gem he’d removed from the cave.

His father took the gem with a small smile. “Thank you, son,” he said, bending his head gratefully. “It means a lot.”

Migo smiled a sad smile at him, patting his shoulder. “I know it does, da.” He nodded to him, then walked calmly out of the room. The moment he was out of his father’s sight he sped up, nearly falling into his own room before pulling shut the curtains separating the room from the rest of the cave. “Small – I mean – Percy?” he asked quietly, looking around the room uncertainly. “Are you there?”

Percy floated down onto his bed, focusing on his voice rather than his body. “I sure am,” he chirped. “Care to tell me why you dragged us up into the mountain to find a tiny, only somewhat shiny rock?”

Migo spun around to face his bed, appearing confused for a moment before shaking his head. “Uh – da, he, uh – wanted it. As medicine. He would’ve fetched it himself, but he’s not as healthy as he used to be.”

All the saltiness about the unexpected and unwanted trip faded. “Oh,” Percy said, his crossed arms dropping into his lap. “Oh, I’m… I’m sorry.”

Another moment passed where Migo only stared blankly – emptily – at the spot where Percy stood. Then he looked away, rubbing at his horn. “It’s… it’s fine,” he said, disbelief and relief in his voice as he smiled. “…thank you.”

Percy didn’t respond to that.

“Are you, uhm,” Migo said, gesturing vaguely towards his bed, “always? Around?”

“Yep.”

“How long have you, uh…”

“Since I died, pretty much.”

“Oh.” Migo ducked his head, refusing to look at him for another few moments. Then he sighed, took two backwards steps, and sat down heavily on his bed. He rubbed his eyes, sighed again, and said, “I’m sorry.”

Percy blinked, then shot up from the bed. Was he finally getting an explanation after all this confusion? He floated over to hover beside Migo’s head, a mockery and pale echo of how he’d sat on his shoulder. “Sorry?” he repeated. “For what?”

Migo winced. “For everything,” he said. “For taking you up here. For thinking I could change things. For not doing more.” He shook his head. “Even you don’t deserve this.”

Well, he certainly wasn’t getting an explanation if he didn’t ask – and while that last comment was disconcerting, his curiosity was stronger than his confusion. “Say, Migo,” he said, turning from his shoulder to hover in front of his face. “Why do yetis kill humans?”

The guilty expression was wiped off Migo’s face as his eyes widened. “What?” he breathed. “What do you mean, _kill_ humans? If anything, _I_ should ask why _smallfeet_ kill _yetis_!”

Percy blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

Migo’s gaze bounced through the room, searching for something to pin his voice to – and when he wound up unsuccessful he stood up, walking through Percy in the process. “It’s the reason we’re up here in the first place,” he exclaimed, starting to pace across the floor. “Smallfeet were killing us, so we had to run away. They were killing us _all,_ they’re monsters!”

The silence after his outburst rang through the air.

Percy stared. “Of course,” he muttered to himself, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Of _course_ – yeti sightings – instinctive fear, and _of course_ , humans are the most dangerous creature on this planet, no _wonder_ – ”

Migo stopped pacing, looking around the room in confusion and slight worry. “Percy?” he called softly. “I’m sorry, I never should’ve brought you into this – ”

“It’s okay,” Percy murmured absentmindedly, before shaking his head to clear it. “I understand. And to answer your question – we fear you.”

“ _What_?” Migo gaped. “You fear _us_? But – we’d never hurt a _fly_ – ” He cut himself off, shooting a quick glance in Percy’s general direction.

The silence was heavy.

Images flashed in Percy’s mind – humans, iced down and stacked along walls, cast in darkness until  the doors were opened, only for a new one to join the collection.

And Percy understood.

“We’re morons,” he said. A flash of betrayal in Migo’s eyes, then quiet curiosity. “You think we’re monsters – but _we_ think you’re the monsters – ” With a sigh he floated down onto Migo’s bed, pressing a hand against his eyes. “Bad people exist across all species…”

Migo was quiet, staring at him with a troubled expression. “That,” he whispered, “would explain a whole lot. _You’re_ not the exception of the rule – _they_ are!”

Percy nodded mutely. “That they are, indeed,” he muttered.

“But – but that makes it _worse_!” Migo cried, turning to face him fully, sitting down on his knees before the bed. Percy glanced up at him, at the confusion in his eyes, the way they searched the empty space. With a mental twist he made himself visible, and Migo’s gaze found him almost immediately. “We – oh, _no_ – all of them – none were – ” He trailed off, looking down at the floor with a terrified expression. “What do I do now?” he whispered, more to himself than Percy.

Percy tilted his head, unaffected by his monologue. “You live,” he said, meeting Migo’s shocked gaze with ease, “when I can not.”

Migo stared, then swallowed thickly, inclining his head. “I will,” he whispered. “I will.”


	6. Chapter 6

It took some time for Migo to get used to the thought of having him constantly around. Percy assured him, more than once, that it’d taken some time for him to get used to it, too. It helped, but not by a lot.

They – or, well, _Percy_ – spent a lot of time experimenting with how far he could stretch the limits of making himself visible. It got easier and easier to make his whole body visible – it was still exhausting to be audible at the same time, but even that got remarkably easier as the days passed. The problem he was focusing on was making _parts_ of his body visible. He’d been able to do it before because it was all he knew, but now that he was powerful enough to _not_ to it, it was hard to go back. It would’ve been fine if it hadn’t been for Migo going in public all the time – Percy wasn’t too certain about being seen by every single yeti in the village, and Migo shared his doubts.

Thankfully, their efforts bore fruits after a few days. He couldn’t do much about his voice, unfortunately – either it would be heard or it wouldn’t – so they were careful about talking in public. Still, it was… nice, to be back on Migo’s shoulder. It didn’t matter any now, of course – it wasn’t like he tired of flying around – but the sense of mixed rightness and safety was there anyway. That was weird, too – he’d gone from fearing the yetis and thinking they were murderers to being fiercely protective of them in the matter of a few days of cracking jokes with Migo.

“I still don’t understand why you’re doing this,” Percy said quietly, clutching Migo’s horn with a wince. “It seems utterly, completely unreasonable.”

Migo rolled his eyes. “We’ve been over this,” he muttered under his breath.

“Yes, yes,” Percy said, gesturing dismissively. “Following the stones and all that. Still, there should be some other way of doing this. It looks incredibly painful.”

“Gotta hit it head on,” Migo replied. “Even though you know it hurts.”

Percy shook his head, then tightened his hold on Migo’s horn. They really were lucky that Dorgle couldn’t see Migo’s horns properly from his low point of view – he would’ve shouted in alarm ages ago if he’d seen Percy’s ghostly blue hands.

“Okay, we’re good,” Percy whispered. “Fire us into the sun, for all I care.”

Migo nodded, then exclaimed, “Launch!”

Percy lost his hold on Migo’s horns almost the instant he shot off – he always did – but they both knew that he was trying his best. It didn’t take him long to catch up, anyway – he’d gotten used to when he had to start slowing down by down.

“Didn’t crack your head, now, did you?” Percy asked, crouching on Migo’s chest and poking his forehead gently. He seemed dizzier than usual.

“Mmmmfine,” Migo muttered, sitting up with a quiet groan. He rubbed his eyes, then stumbled to his feet.

“Are we going into the village today, too?” Percy asked, floating up to sit on his shoulder.

“What do you mean, _too_?” Migo said, turning to wave at Dorgle before hopping down from the base of the gong.  “We’re not in that often.”

Percy nodded slowly. “Mhm, not that often, huh? No, only every morning or so. You’re not even doing anything there, you’re just talking to people.”

Migo shrugged, affectively just driving his shoulder through Percy’s legs. He shuddered and muttered a small apology that Percy brushed off. “People are nice,” he offered. “Besides, they expect to see me.”

“If you say so,” Percy said, grinning to himself.

It had become habit for Percy to low-key make fun of Migo being a social butterfly. One could almost call it routine; the day wasn’t completed before they’d mocked each other a bit.

Well down in the village Migo had to shift his focus from Percy to his surroundings, nodding greetings and good morning’s in all directions. Percy leaned back on his shoulder, content with watching the daily bustle of the yeti village. Despite it all it had a sort of gentle warmth to it, the ever-lasting ebb and flow of their genuine smiles a security on its own. He could almost understand why they were content the way they lived – _almost_. He was far too adventurous to ever be happy with living like that _himself_ … but still, he could understand.

They hadn’t gotten further than half-way through the marketplace when a loud hoot from a horn broke through the chatter of the crowd. Migo startled, instinctively raising a hand to the shoulder where Percy sat. As the crowd stilled and quieted Percy leaned forward, pressing his hand against Migo’s palm. It was a silent _‘I’m here and I’m safe, don’t worry_ ’ which meaning hopefully translated across.

“Everyone!” a voice called, and now Migo looked genuinely worried. “The Stonekeeper has somethin’ to say!”

And, as if on cue, every single yeti dropped what they had in their hands, gathering before the Stonekeeper’s mansion with curiosity and willingness.

The yeti that had spoken stepped aside, and out from the gate stepped the yeti leader – the Stonekeeper himself – with a kind smile on his face. Percy shuddered. He’d seen what lay beyond those eyes, knew to what lengths he’d go to protect his own. It was admirable, but also slightly terrifying.

“Migo,” the Stonekeeper called, gesturing towards him. Every yeti’s head turned in their direction, and Migo shifted, glancing around in obvious nervousness. “Why don’t you come join me?”

It wasn’t a question, even Percy knew that much, and Migo stumbled his way through the crowd and up the stairs. The Stonekeeper greeted him warmly, then clapped a hand down on his shoulder – the shoulder Percy sat on.

His hand went straight through Percy’s head. All three of them shuddered, and Percy hurriedly rose, moving over to the opposite shoulder instead. The Stonekeeper gave Migo an odd look, but shook his head and turned back to the crowd. “My friends,” he said, sweeping his staff towards the crowd, “I am pleased to tell you that, after long hours of throughout thinking, I have found the next Keeper.”

Questioning mutters from the crowd.

Migo tensed beneath him. He didn’t say anything – didn’t move at all – but Percy raised his hand to bury his fingers in his fur. Another silent comforting gesture that Migo hopefully would understand. He understood what was happening – did at least _partially_ understand Migo’s sudden terror, if not fully.

“Yes, indeed,” the Stonekeeper said, turning to Migo with a smile, “dear Migo here is perfect for the job.”

Surprised mutters, a few shocked gasps, but no complaints.

Migo tensed further, his eyes going wide. “I – I – _me_?” he stuttered, turning a shocked look to the Stonekeeper. “But I’m – I’m the _gong ringer –_ ”

“Yes,” the Stonekeeper agreed, inclining his head with a warm smile, “but there is none in this village more fit for this job than you. Don’t you agree?” The last part was directed at the crowd, joined by a wide beam.

A cheer rose, the chorus of agreeing calls hearty and welcoming.

This was, apparently, exactly what the Stonekeeper had been waiting for. “Meechee, if you will?” he asked, turning to give a familiar yeti a questioning look. In her hands she held a necklace – a single, blank stone slate hung on a thick rope. She stepped over to them, bending her head in front of Migo.

“ – Meechee,” he whispered, reaching for her –

“Don’t,” she whispered, the hands clutching the necklace shaking, her voice fierce with anger. She didn’t look up at him, only looped the rope around his neck, letting the stone slate rest against his chest. The moment she was done she stepped back, gazing calmly – coolly – out across the crowd of confused but cheering yetis.

Migo stood before them, responsibility and a web of lies draped across his shoulders. And Percy felt him start to break.

*

“Can’t you do anything?” Percy asked, staring hopelessly at Migo’s frantic pacing. He’d slipped away from the crowd the moment he could, hiding behind a large boulder a few turns away from the village.

“No!” Migo cried, tugging at his hair. “No, I can’t – you don’t just _deny_ the Stonekeeper!” He grasped the stone hanging around his neck, grimacing at it in disgust. “I don’t _want_ this – I don’t _need_ this – ”

“Migo – ”

“What is he _thinking,_ making _me_ the next Stonekeeper? Is it because I know the stones?”

“Migo – ”

He gasped. “Is it because I know the _truth_? The perfect for the role, he said, but I can’t be – ”

“ _Migo_!” Percy cried, shooting up to grasp his face between his hands. “Migo, it’s going to be alright. I’m here, breathe, buddy, _breathe_.” He pushed forward to press his forehead against Migo’s, stroking his fur gently. “Hush, now. Don’t be scared. I know it seems unreasonable. I know, and it _is_. But this is not the end.”

Migo reached after him, curling his fingers around his back. “I don’t want to be the Stonekeeper,” he whispered, hopelessness and terror bleeding from his voice. “Percy…”

“Shh,” Percy breathed, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead before once more leaning against him. “I know, Migo. I know. I’m here.”

They stood like that for a long time, Percy whispering soft nothings and soothing things, Migo slowly calming his breath. And it was home, it was safety, it was warmth –

but most of all it was guilt and terror.

For Percy had yet to tell him that it was Migo, and Migo alone, that kept him alive.


	7. Chapter 7

Outside the stars shone brightly in the sky, rivalled only by the fierce glow of the moon. It was the first clear night he was experiencing here – all the others had been clouded or stormy – and it was only now sinking in that he was far, far away from all human civilization. Rarely had he seen stars gleaming as brightly as these. There had been the times he’d been in jungles, and the one time he’d been on Svalbard, but truly, they held nothing on these.

Percy sat in Migo’s windowsill, head tipped back to gaze at the seeds of light. Out there was a world previously unmapped – he’d been almost everywhere on Earth, seen the joys of the world and the love of humans, but now he hungered for something else. Not the calm and friendly bustle of the yeti village, living shielded lives without knowing it themselves. Not citylife, or tribe lives, or village-life in China, Nepal or some other country. No.

He longed for peace.

“What do you think is out there?” he asked, turning his head to Migo.

Migo’s gaze slid from him to the stars behind him, a soft frown marring his brow. “Does anyone even know that?”

Percy trailed his fingers down the side of the windowsill. “Humans do,” he said, gentle to not break the moment. “They’re building rockets and planes – they’ve been to the moon, you know.” He offered Migo a small smile. “Only a matter of time before they get to Mars. One day they might very well know every secret of the universe.”

Migo pushed himself up on his elbows, staring at Percy with wide eyes. “I – are you kidding me?”

Percy shook his head.

“I – _wow_ , that’s – that’s _great_ ,” Migo breathed, now twisting to cross his legs beneath him. “You’re exploring the beyond?”

“We sure are.” He turned back to gaze out of the window – an open hole, really – a warm yet hollow feeling nestled in his chest, deep beneath his heart, sickly sweet like the broken echo of awe. “I wonder if I’ll ever go there.”

A pause. “What do you mean?” There was a tilt of worry to his tone.

Percy took a deep breath. “When you no longer mourn me,” he whispered, “I’ll disappear. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. I just know I won’t be here.”

Another pause. “ _What_?” Migo breathed – and when Percy turned to him, his expression was open and raw and terrifyingly honest. “When I no longer – what are you _talking about_ – ”

“You’re the reason I’m here,” Percy explained quietly, not looking at Migo but rather at his knees. Worry gnawed at him, worry and fear – that he should’ve told him sooner, that they would argue, that they’d go back to the way they’d been. Cold. Afraid. “You’re sad I died, and that sadness was enough for me to manifest, I guess? I, uh… I don’t know the details of it.”

A long pause where Percy only stared blankly at the air in front of him, listening to Migo breathe. “So…” Migo finally said in a thoughtful tone, “what you’re saying… is that if I’m not sad you died… then you’re completely gone?”

Percy nodded.

“Well then,” Migo said lightly, dipping his head with a smile, “you’ll be staying for a long, long time.”

His breath caught in his throat, or perhaps on his ribs – or even his heart, no longer beating but certainly _feeling_ like it was, hammering harshly, _fiercely_. It was entirely irrational, but it was almost as though the world stopped turning for a brief moment – all that existed was them, only the two of them, Migo’s fur shining bright in the moonlight, pale silver in the darkness.

“And we’ll see what happens, yeah?” Migo asked, reaching out towards him, palm turned upward.

And with hope fluttering between his ribs Percy stood up, floating over to him to sit in his hand. “Yes,” he whispered, pressing his bare palm against Migo’s. He smiled, a wobbly sort of smile that could shatter into a grimace at a wrong turn – but a smile, nonetheless. “I suppose we will.”

And that they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come bother me at tumblr! I go by louthegreatfurry, asks are always open, as are my dm's! I'll happily answer (almost) any questions ^^


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